


Irresistible

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cursed Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Lust Curse, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 15:37:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A hunt gone wrong sees Cas infected with lust and unable to control himself.Back at the bunker, Dean finds out how to fix his angel and honestly, it’s easier than he thought.  Kind of.





	Irresistible

Less than thirty miles from home, they hit a roadblock.

Dean swore under his breath as the traffic backlog suddenly came into view; there were cars behind him already, too many to try and safely turn around, and it was so atypical for their quiet burg that he started to wonder if Chuck was still fucking with them somehow, from his prison cell.

He heard a groan from the back seat, and Sam’s gentle tones, I know, we’ll nearly there, hold on, but that was a lie because now they weren’t nearly there but stuck behind a good thirty cars all parked in the road for no reason Dean could see.

“Hang tight,” he said, and got out of the car.

He stepped further out into the road, watching in case some idiot came up on the left, but other than a few guys in work gear standing doing nothing in the distance, he couldn’t see what the hell was going on.

And then he heard Sam shout.

When Dean turned around, Sam was getting out of the car, but Cas was already striding towards the nearest vehicle, some dinged up flatbed.

Dean nearly jumped the impala’s hood, but their angel had a head start and reached the cab before the hunters could reach him.

“I need to have sex with you,” he said.

The driver, a heavy set guy, paunch pressed against the steering wheel, with a long unkempt beard, turned slowly to stare at the angel as if stunned out of a traffic jam induced slumber.

“What?”

“Sex,” Cas repeated. “Intercourse. I need to. With you.” Then he looked around him, desperately. “Or anyone here.”

The guy got out of the truck.

Sam got to Cas first, hauling him back, away from the driver.

Dean quickly stepped between them, and tried to ignore Cas’s pleas as Sam managed to shepherd him back to the car.

“He’s, uh….on medication,” Dean said.

The guy stared at Cas for a long moment, and then looked up ahead to the other vehicles, still showing no sign of moving.

“Okay,” he said.

Dean nodded, started to turn away, but then the guy’s hand was on his shoulder. 

“No, I mean, okay, not like any of us are going anywhere.”

Dean turned slowly back to him. “Okay?”

The guy grinned. “Hey, your buddy’s fine; get him back here, and you can honk if anybody comes up on my truck. Back seat’ll do.”

He was slumped against his truck a moment later, blood streaming from his nose, and glaring up at Dean.

“Fuck, if you wanted paid….”

Sam was there, suddenly, yanking him back before anybody noticed him having a punch up at the side of the road with another driver.

“Get your ass in the car,” he snapped, and dragged Dean away.

“That fucker,” Dean started, and then he shot Sam a look. “You left Cas alone?”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Sam said. He pushed Dean back behind the wheel and then got into the back seat again.

Dean twisted around; Cas’s left wrist was handcuffed to the door handle, the sigils on the manacle gleaming as Cas tried to tug free and then slumped back in frustration.

“Unnecessary,” he complained.

“Since you can’t keep it in your pants, very necessary.”

“Dean,” Sam snapped.

Dean shrugged. Okay, this situation was not Cas’s fault, but all the same he wasn’t going to sugar coat it.

They had a real problem, and no idea how to fix it.

++

It took them another two hours to get back to the bunker, by which point Cas was surly and sore, and Dean and Sam desperately needed both brain bleach and a cure for their angel.

Half way home, just as the traffic started to pick up from a crawl to walking speed, Sam had yelled Cas’s name and Dean had risked a quick look into the back seat.

Cas was taut with pain, and Sam torn between looking a little grossed out and extremely concerned.

He was holding Cas pressed against the back seat like the angel was having some kind of fit.

“I’m pulling over,” Dean said, but Sam stopped him.

“No, no, just get us home, he’s okay, he just…”

Sam’s cheeks tinged, then, and Dean shifted his eyes briefly, very briefly given there was at best five feet between them and the cars in front and behind, to see why Sam was flushed.

”Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t notice he was burping the worm back there?”

“Oh, let me apologise for not staring at his crotch the whole time.”

“How about just his free hand, Sam?”

“Enough,” Cas complained. He was shaking, and pale, but his tone was like sharpened steel and shut them both up. “Sam, I apologise, that was inappropriate. I just…”

“You can’t help it,” Sam said. “I know. But Cas, it hurts if you…. If you do it yourself, you know that.”

“It hurts if I don’t. The compulsion….”. He trailed off, and stared out of the window, and Dean forced himself to keep his eyes on the road after that.

Cas was never one for admitting he was in pain, whatever the reason, or needed help, so Dean was no stranger to the angel boxing it all in.

Right now all he could do was get them home, where they could keep Cas safe so he and Sam could hit the books. 

In the mammoth library of lore the Letters possessed, that the brothers had added to since moving in, there had to be something to help their angel.

There had to be.

++

They had a cot in the dungeon.

It was bolted down to the floor, in the middle of an elaborate devil’s trap, reinforced around the outer rim with other confining markings, including some that would hold an angel.

After the past few years, the three of them had learned it was better to prepare for all eventualities, including having to lock up someone they cared about.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t been forced to before.

Cas didn’t look happy about it, but he didn’t resist as the brothers helped him to the cot and carefully fastened the leather straps around his ankles and wrists.

Dean would have preferred just cuffing one of Cas’s wrists to the frame, but his behaviour in the car proved Cas couldn’t really control himself or the curse for more than short periods at a time; he needed to get off, to be fucked, preferably, but anything would do, even if it meant enduring pain by pleasuring himself.

“I swear, we’re gonna fix this,” Dean said.

Sam drew a blanket up over the angel; with the sigils, he’d feel the cold more and there was no heating in the dungeon.

“I know,” Cas said, but he was still unconsciously testing the restraints.

They creaked, but held. 

“Cas.”

When the angel looked back at him, he looked scared for just one moment before it was quickly tucked away again.

“I know,” he said, again, and then Dean fled.

++

Sam slammed the book shut and dumped it on the steadily building pile of tomes they’d already done checking.

“It’s not blood based, right, we know that,” Dean said. He was quickly running his finger down page after page of his own book, scanning the text for anything that fit with Cas’s symptoms and the events leading up to what had happened. “Whatever that thing that jumped him was, it didn’t bite or claw him; it didn’t break the skin.”

“No.” Sam pulled down the next book, one on Scandinavian hexes - a long shot but that felt like all they had left. “Maybe it’s just skin to skin contact, or maybe, something to do with his Grace?”

Dean snapped his fingers, and then he turned his book towards Sam. “Or maybe both. At least now we know what it _was_.”

There was a picture taking up one full page, a very close likeness to the creature they’d killed earlier that day. It wasn’t often they came across new monsters, but it did happen, and at least they’d been lucky enough that an angel blade did the job.

But to kill it, Cas had to get in close, too close, and so here they were.

Dealing with the fallout from a creature that drove its victims into a state of perpetual lust just by touching them.

“Does it say how to break it? How to fix him?”

Dean took the book back, and scanned line after line, hastily turning pages. “The guy who wrote this so _did not know_ how to get to the point. Or how to use punctuation, holy shit, he….”

When he trailed off, Sam felt his stomach clench up. That was not a good sign. “Dean?”

Dean closed the book over, stood up, and tucked it under his arm.

“Stay up here for a while,” he said, and turned towards the hall.

“Dean!” Sam was on his feet, but Dean turned back long enough to waggle his finger at Sam.

“I’m not kidding, Sam. Keep you ass right here, okay? It’ll be okay, I’ll take care of Cas.”

Sam cursed as his brother walked away, but he knew better than to follow.

Whatever was in that book, he just hoped Dean knew what he was doing.

++

Cas squinted as he looked up at Dean, who was sitting on the edge of the cot.

Dean hadn’t missed how, restraints aside, Cas had managed to shuffle the inch or so he needed for his body to be touching Dean’s.

“And you won’t become...infected?”

Dean shook his head. “It’s not like an STD. This is how we fix it, Cas.”

The angel tugged at his cuffs, and looked expectantly at the human, and Dean let his hand come to rest on Cas’s torso.

“Look, uh….I can’t let you go. But you trust me, right?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You know I do, but…”

Dean got it. He and Cas weren’t about to do anything they hadn’t done before, but the whole _bondage_ thing, that…. Yeah, that was new.

And necessary.

“As soon as you come,” Dean said, “it should be out of your system, and we can get you loose. But until then, you’re going to be a little out of control, Cas. Your body’s not gonna know what’s good for you, and…”

 _And I don’t want to take the chance on you overpowering me and busting out of here if I let you up before we fix this. Especially not if this thing drives you up to where Sam is, or even out of the bunker_.

It probably wouldn’t, but then he’d never have expected Cas to basically proposition a line of traffic either, so.

Cas sighed. “I don’t wish to be tied up while we have sex.”

“I know,” Dean said. He didn’t want him tied up either; they’d both been in that position too often for it ever to be anything they wanted to do to each other.

“But I don’t want to remain cursed any longer.”

“I don’t want you to remain cursed any longer either.”

“Dean.” When Cas said his name, it sounded like his patience was wearing thin. “Since we’ve established that, and that the only way to fix this is for you to fuck me...perhaps you could get on with it?”

Dean feel colour rise to his cheeks. Cas had never been much for dirty talk, but apparently all it took to fix that was getting cursed by some bastardised version of an incubus. 

“Yeah, I can do that.”

++

If he ignored the fact that Cas was bound hand and foot to the prison style cot in the dungeon, Dean could almost pretend this was just any other night.

Cas moaning beneath his body, rising up to meet Dean as he took him, not hurried, just gentle and easy, dipping down to kiss him, forearms pushing into the pillow either side of Cas’s head.

Except by now Cas would have his hands on him, pulling him in closer, even when there wasn’t a millimetre of space between them, like Cas wanted Dean inside him in more ways than one.

He missed that.

But all Dean had to do was get Cas through this, and then Cas would be okay and things could go back to what passed for normal in their lives.

“I didn’t,” Cas said, suddenly, as if it was something that had been weighing on him and he just couldn’t wait any longer to get it off his chest, even if doing it while Dean was rocking into him was just a weird choice of moment. “I didn’t want anybody else.”

Dean bit his lip but made himself pause, staring down into those wide blue eyes. “Cas?”

“After it infected me. On the road. No matter what I said, I didn’t…”

Dean kissed him again. “I know,” he said, leaning back. “Fuck, Cas, I know that. It’s okay, it wasn’t you, okay?”

It still felt good to punch out that dickwad in the traffic jam, though, he’d admit to that.

Cas was staring back at him, as it trying to tell if they were actually okay or not, but something he saw there must have satisifed him.

He tightened up around Dean, no warning, and Dean grunted and came, hard, dizzingly, and slumped forward enough to rest his forehead on Cas’s shoulder.

“Dirty tricks,” he muttered, but he wasn’t really complaining.

The angle was awkward, a good way to end up with carpal tunnel, but he managed anyway, getting a firm grip around Cas and stroking him the rest of the way to his own climax.

When it was done, Cas was panting against his skin, and tugging meaningfully at the restraints.

“Dean, it’s…. I’m through it. Could you please?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Dean quickly unbuckled the wrist cuffs and then the ones fastened around Cas’s ankles, and helped him sit up. He draped the blanket around them both, and tugged the angel to lean into his side.

“You sure you’re okay?”

He fingered the thick leather that had been holding Cas doing for the past while.

Cas took it from Dean’s hands, set it aside. 

“Yes. Thanks to you.”

Dean felt his cheeks tinge, but then Cas was gently tucking fingers under his jaw, guiding Dean’s head around to look at him.

“Always thanks to you.”

When Sam dared to venture down later, he found Dean safely asleep in Cas’s arms, and the angel lying there, eyes closed, a content smile on his face.


End file.
